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21 February 2017

The moment I'm talking about is about 2:44 in a caption flashes up that states, unequivocally, "Raised on the streets". At that point my worry that someone had stepped up to fill in the space formerly (in fact, now, still) occupied by Boorman's Excalibur evaporated, straight up.

My ongoing but still insubstantial Arthur Redux project seeks to unite all the various strands of Arthurian mythos into one (hopefully) coherent narrative. I'm currently stuck at the beginning of Book Two: Merlin having been strict with myself that I should pump out no more new content until I had properly disposed of the old content. That, it transpires, has been quite the mouthful, in retrospect.

But another time for that discussion, maybe never. Where was I? Arthur being "raised on the streets". Sigh.

The reason for my project is just this kind of unmitigated bollocks. Why do people think it's okay to just re-work the King Arthur legend on a whim? Well, I suppose that's obvious, it's so old even the current ridiculous limitations of copyright put him in the public domain and finding out exactly what the deal is with old Artura is the work of beardy scholars and other obsessive weirdos.

(Why are you looking at me like that?)

Anyhow, if you were thinking that this would help the lay man unpick the once and future king of Britain from a bunch of made up cinematic trope du jour BS then you will be disappointed. Still, at least it isn't just Clive Owen mumbling on a muddy field this time, there look to be actual monsters in this one.

19 February 2017

The interior of the store is lit by a single weak lamp. The tables are pushed up against the walls, the chairs are stacked up on the tables, resting one on top of another, seats kissing.

There's a brighter light coming from the office out back. It just makes the shadowy figure sweeping the dusty floor even harder to focus on. This business does not seem to have opened its doors in a very long while.

The windows are clean but there are marks here and there, the residue of tabs of sticky tape, the remnants of old notices. Now they have all been taken down. There is only one notice here now, in the centre of the door window, in the place where you might expect the word "open" or, in this case, "closed".

The notice says neither of these things. It says, rather, "Coming Soon, more things."

You guess the store will not open today. Probably not tomorrow either, but apparently things, more of them, are coming, and soon. You are not sure you believe this. Still, you will keep an eye on the store because you could do with more things, and this looks like the place to get them.